My dark times in my dark history

  April 11th, 2017 by ariusversea

Maybe I should slash my wrist. It’s not like they need me. I should take some pills. And some more, and maybe some more for some good luck. Maybe I should. My cross is upstairs, too far away from me. I can’t really pay attention to music, just the tap tap tap of my keyboard. The tap tap tap of everything that is wrong with me. Everything that is wrong with me doesn’t leave with the pills, instead it’s buried with them at the pit of my stomach and stays there until I’m old and living and successful and happy for it to spring back up and eat my brain and my liver slowly but painfully, so so painfully, that I carve it out of me like a jack-o-lantern and show everyone how hollow and empty I am. All the light that will be left is the shimmering of a candle, the shimmering of my blood-pumping frail heart that has resisted me and everything that I have done to it, everyone that I have put in it, all the heaviness that it can’t carry anymore.

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By my cross, I mean the one that I got at a convention that really uplifted me. That cross made me feel safe but I stopped holding it against me and now I just let the despair eat me whole.

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